Pink Bullets
by innuendoqueen
Summary: Based off lyrics, Pink Bullets, by the Shins. Draco is a lonely kite, Harry eventually flies with him! Disclaimer! I am not making any money off anything, and JK Rowling is the queen of the land.
1. Pink Bullets Prologue

Prologue

Draco was known for his long fingers. Draco prided them, as his own father's fingers were also long, pale, and slender. Like...Voldemort's as well... Draco did not pride being compared to Lord Voldemort. While Lucius Malfoy droned on about how the state of your fingers was the state of your life, Draco feigned interest, while really feeling indifferent.

Draco often wished he could hold hands with someone who's hands were not compared to a Dark Lord... Maybe one day the warm hands of Harry Potter would do the job. Draco often remembered how warm Harry's hands had been when he was struck by them, and as they hit, it was warmth on Draco's cold cheeks. He was used to the chilling cold of the dungeons, but he often dreamed of waking up warm, maybe even wrapped around another's body, in a tower where the fire's were frequent and always alight.

Every once in a while, Draco cast Foriscorpus on himself and saw what he looked like to other people. Though Draco's reputation did its job of keeping him safe, it was also strong enough to scare away friendships and relationships that Draco saw between other people. Harry Potter had his friends, and he was famous, but his friends didn't love him because he was famous; they loved him because he was a hero, and had a golden heart. Even Professor Snape's provoking words couldn't lessen the love that Draco knew resided inside of Harry. Draco was often jealous of the Mudblood, and even the Weasel, though his notoriety prevented him from ever admitting it.

Long years passed, and Draco's hunger for Harry grew. Draco ate, drank, and dreamed Harry's heart. For six years, since that first day, Draco's glacier life had felt warmth, and once it got a taste, it would do anything to melt completely, even if the only way to be close to the other boy was to provoke his weaknesses. All Draco ever did was show Harry his cold feelings, hoping one day Harry would let go of his pride a little and see that Draco was just a lonely spark that needed encouragement.


	2. Pink Bullets Part One

Part One

The taunting had stopped. But it hadn't just died down. All Malfoy had said to Harry was,

"Have a nice life, Potter," after Harry and the blond Slytherin had shuffled with their trunks, leaving them both with bumps on the foreheads.

It had ceased completely.

* * *

All Draco saw when he looked at Harry was warmth. It was hard not to, as the boy glowed with the essence of life, like a Gryffindor common room fire. He seemed to be the epitome of sunshine. Draco wanted the energy, the fire. He wanted to feel Harry's arm melt the pale ice that Draco's hands seemed to be made of.

Draco wanted Harry's warmth, and light. And love.

Each night, Draco dreams were of Harry, the only thing that really kept him alive.

Unrequited love was like no other.

* * *

Harry observed Malfoy, noticed his weaknesses, like easy frustration when difficult became impossible. Without the previous threat, Harry grew to enjoy the moments when he could sneak down to the library in his Invisibility Cloak and noiselessly sit across the table from Malfoy, whose quirks and habits made him interesting, a side Harry had never seen before.

Harry could tell that Malfoy knew he was being watched, even if he didn't know who was watching or how. Harry continued discreetly.

* * *

Draco could feel eyes on him. He would slowly look up and inconspicuously behind him, but he never saw anyone.

He habitually laid in the grass outside Hogwarts, ever hoping for a quiet moment. He had once seen a few Muggles in a park, doing a think called "flying kites". It seemed fun, now that Draco had nothing else to occupy him.

Draco began to care less about old matters in his life, as they seemed only bits and pieces. He felt he was living in someone else's life, or that he was just an actor in a play.


	3. Pink Bullets Part Two

Part Two

"_Hello, Harry."_

"_Hello, Malfoy. What are you doing here? This is the Gryffindor common room."_

"_Oh, Harry, call me Draco. I came here to see you."_

"_Alright. Well, here I am."_

"_Harry, hold on!"_

_They flew on broomstick over castle walls, into sunlight. Harry could smell Draco's foreign scent while holding his torso. Draco's cheeks were pink with cold, despite the sun, and Harry reached to touch them, to warm them. _

_Then all of the sudden, Harry was falling off of the broom, and he fell, as if tied to a brick, down..._

_Down…_

_And Draco started to sing, and swooped around, and picked Harry up, all the while singing and laughing over his shoulder._

Harry awoke with his stomach fluttering, as if he had fallen a long distance. His ears were ringing.

"What just happened?" he said aloud.

* * *

Draco's dream woke him, gasping for air, he couldn't get enough air in his lungs!

Because he was laughing so hard.

He decided to go on a walk outside. He knew it was snowing, but he had the impervius charm to keep the snowflakes from penetrating his cloaks.

* * *

After trying to go back to sleep, Harry decided that his efforts were fruitless. He got up and dressed warmly, ready to face the frozen morning. It was just beginning to become light.

Once outside the Great Hall doors, he found a tree near the lake and sat down. Watching the shoreline, he noticed a moving figure. It was sprawled on the shore and had hands and was throwing a rock and catching it.

This time Harry didn't have his Invisibility Cloak, but he moved closer.

* * *

Draco thought he was alone when he walked to the lake shore and laid his cloak down. Then he heard footsteps and sat up quickly.

"Potter."

* * *

"Malfoy. What are you doing here?"

"Thinking."

Harry was silent. Then,

"Uh, Malfoy…?"

"Yeah?"

"Is it okay if I maybe just…sit here?"

"If you want, sure."

"Thanks."

Harry was cold, despite his cloaks, and noticed that Draco was severely lacking in attire for the temperature. He figured that living in the dungeons must prepare you for this sort of weather.

* * *

Draco eventually fell asleep. He was pretty cold, but once he was sleeping, he couldn't feel it.

He dreamt he was underwater, being held there by long fingers on his head. Choking.

* * *

"Dra-Malfoy?" It had been half an hour and Harry wanted to ask Draco why he was out here. He seemed to be sleeping.

"Hello?" Harry nudged Draco's arm. Draco stirred, then…nothing.

Harry went back to aimless thinking. He examined Draco. Draco's skin was perfect alabaster, there were no freckles or blemishes that marred his snow-skin. And his hair seemed to be snowflakes strung together on silken strands. He noticed Draco's long fingers that were resting on the broad chest. The broad chest that was rising and falling with steady breaths…Or should have been…

Harry kneeled over Draco and made sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. It was absolutely freezing outside, as the sun had not fully risen yet, and it was the coldest time of winter. Draco's chest was not rising as the sun would be.

"Shit!" Harry's efforts to kindle Draco's heart seemed ineffective, as he slapped Draco's frozen cheeks and thumped him on the chest in attempts at his limited knowledge of Muggle CPR.

"I can't let him die!"

* * *

Draco reminded himself of a kite, slowly falling. It was freezing, he felt, and then someone was waking him up from this falling business. And his chest hurt, but he was breathing, and his throat choked, but he was okay, and a hand was on his cheek, and lips on his, pushing breath inside him.

And it was the warmest thing he had ever known. And as much as he didn't want those lips to leave his own, he sucked the frozen air into his lungs.

"Draco! Are you okay? Say something!" Harry's frantic hands seemed to search Draco's cold face.

"W-warm light on a winter's day…"


	4. Pink Bullets Epilogue

Pink Bullets

By The Shins

I was just bony hands as cold as a winter pole

You held a warm stone out

new flowing blood to hold

Oh what a contrast you were

To the brutes in the halls

My timid young fingers held a decent animal.

Over the ramparts you tossed

The scent of your skin and some foreign flowers

Tied to a brick

Sweet as a song

The years have been short but the days were long.

Cool of a temperate breeze from dark skies to wet grass

We fell in a field it seems now a thousand summers passed

When our kite lines first crossed

We tied them into knots

And to finally fly apart

We had to cut them off.

Since then it's been a book you read in reverse

So you understand less as the pages turn

Or a movie so crass

And awkardly cast

That even I could be the star.

I don't look back much as a rule

And all this way before murder was cool

But your memory is here and I'd like it to stay

Warm light on a winter day.

Over the ramparts you tossed

The scent of your skin and some foreign flowers

Tied to a brick

Sweet as a song

The years have been short but the days go slowly by

Two loose kites falling from the sky

Drawn to the ground and an end to flight.

* * *

So there's my first fic.

i envisioned that song as a fic as soon as i heard it, and now i'm finally finished.

Please Review!

This is my first one, and i really want to know how it went.

Thank you so much!

-autumn


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